


Joy in the Laughter

by Ramabear (RyMagnatar)



Series: A Joyful Ghost [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Biting, Blood, Dogteeth Kakashi Headcanon, M/M, minor Bloodplay, pre-massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyMagnatar/pseuds/Ramabear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi wakes up to find that he brought Shisui back to his apartment the night before. He's not half bad looking and, well, Kakashi really shouldn't be picky when he's already got him in his bed. The morning is spent in warmth, in sunlight and sweet, joyous laughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joy in the Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Shisui is 19; Kakashi is 21

Kakashi wakes up long before dawn with sleep in his eye, a kunai in his hand and a faint sense that he is _not alone._ The feeling doesn’t end when he blinks his uncovered eye and stretches out his awareness to the rest of his room. It isn’t any of his ninken, it’s a person.

A person in his bathroom, it turns out, when he hears the running of plumbing in the walls and a door open and shut. He relaxes his grip on the kunai and sits up properly. There’s moonlight coming in through his window and he’s curious to see where his visitor is going to end up. He doesn’t have a spare room, but he’s got a well used couch.

The door to his bedroom opens and in stumbles a familiar face. Kakashi relaxes a bit more and then tenses again when his guest makes it to the bed, stops, and stares down at him.

“Woah,” Shisui says, blinking sleepy eyes, “You’re damn pretty.”

Kakashi doesn’t reach up to cover his face because at this point the gesture is fully useless. He knew he didn’t have his mask on when he woke, but hadn’t thought much of it. He usually didn’t wear it, just a plain eyepatch over the Sharingan to keep it quiet. He didn’t have much clothing on at all, in fact, just pants. Like Shisui.

Shisui who climbs over his legs and back into the bed beside Kakashi, wedged between the wall and his body. “Figures you’re pretty,” he mumbles into the pillow he’s stolen from Kakashi and wrapped his arms around, “Gotta be pretty to attract such a nice looking guy such as myself.” He grins and turns his head enough to give Kakashi a wink.

“Arrogant Uchiha,” Kakashi mutters. He grabs his pillow away from Shisui, making the other man complain, and shoved it back into place under his head as he lies down. He tucks an arm under it, to keep Shisui from stealing it back.

“You should have more pillows,” Shisui adds in as a complaint as he shifts his head from his own arm to Kakashi’s chest. “It’s only polite to provide for your guests.”

Kakashi closed his eyes, determined to get a few hours more of sleep. “I don’t entertain many guests in my bed.”

Shisui laughs and Kakashi suppresses a shiver as that warm breath stirs across his chest. He moves a little, his curly hair brushing against Kakashi’s neck and shoulder and then seems to settle into a comfortable position, “That’s fine with me. I don’t either.”

Chewing over those words and thinking of something to say in response to them, Kakashi drifts off to sleep again.

* * *

There’s sunlight when he wakes for the second time that morning. He opens his eyes, trying to figure out what he’s looking at, wondering where he got such a warm blanket when he realizes that his arms are around another body and those black curls he can see at the bottom of his vision isn’t the tuft of a strange blanket but of short, curly black hair. His heart does a strange stutter as he thinks _Obito_ but there’s no way it’s him. Kakashi never held him like this.

Kakashi shifts and lifts his head slightly. They’re tangled together all right, with the blankets around their legs and their arms around each other. Sunlight pours in through the window, even with one of the shutters covering half of the glass, and catches along Shisui’s bare back and shoulders. He glows white-gold in the light and it’s hard even to see the scars that he must have on his back, from being a shinobi since before he was thirteen and being in ANBU for several years already.

He runs his fingers down Shisui’s spine and gets his first indication that Shisui is not asleep when he feels a hitch in the breath and the tightening of Shisui’s grip.

Shisui lifts his head and looks up at Kakashi. His face is in shadow. His eyes are darker because of it. “Kakashi?”

“Are you expecting someone _else_ in my bed with you?” Kakashi asks dryly. His fingers finish their trip down Shisui’s spine and he rests his hand in the small of his back.

“Eh,” Shisui shrugs and gives a jaunty little smile. “Just checking. You were a lot less tactile last night. You could be someone pretending to be Kakashi, but then you’d have to get the face right.” He wriggles a hand free of where it was trapped between them and under them at the same time to trace fingertips along Kakashi’s jaw. “But I saw you last night and I know this is your face.”

In a little bit of irritation, Kakashi snapped his teeth at those fingers. Shisui drew them back automatically, eyes going wide. _“Woah.”_

Kakashi frowns at him and mutters, “I’ll show you less tactile,” as he begins to pull away.

Shisui immediately tightens his arm around Kakashi’s waist and brings his other hand back in, this time running fingertips back from Kakashi’s jaw and up into his hair. “Don’t. Please.”

The tone is different enough that Kakashi stops and studies his face again. They’re still locked together. It’s still early, before the village has properly woken up. No one has come tapping on his window with an urgent message from the Hokage or a threatening one for him, a Sharingan-thief, drunkenly taking home one of the most prominent Uchiha shinobi last night.

And Shisui, arrogant and vain Uchiha that he was, did have a point. He wasn’t half bad looking.

So Kakashi leaned in instead, shifting them on the bed so he was almost pinning him down. He saw Shisui’s eyes widen and felt the quick intake of breath. “Do you want to?” he asks, soft as the touch of his fingers rubbing circles on that skin above the waistband of Shisui’s pants.

“Want to what?” Shisui’s eyes are dancing, that smile cutting across his face again, and his hand in Kakashi’s hair curls around a handful of grey locks.

Kakashi rolls his hips against Shisui’s and says, low and rough and apparently in just the right tone to make those dark eyes widen even more and those pupils grow, “Do you want to fuck?”

“Yeah,” comes the reply and then he’s being pulled in for a kiss, warm as the sunlight and just as lingering.

While Kakashi was honest the night before -or earlier that morning, however he wants to think of it- in saying that he doesn’t entertain many guests in his bed that isn’t to say that he doesn’t entertain any. Nor does it omit the entertainment uses of his couch or a good solid wall or a bed at an inn or a bed at someone else’s home. He’s come down off of too many battle driven adrenaline highs to not know how to fuck someone with the same sort of sick neediness he’s felt when his body is in high gear and his brain is tripping right along with it. He’s had too many desperate moments in shadowed places where the blood is freshly washed from his skin but the blood in his veins is half frozen in horror and spiky with the realization that he could have died, he could have died, and the only thing that can really remind him of living, of life, is the give of flesh under his own in pleasure instead of the oncoming of death.

This is different, though, as different as sunlight to moonlight. This isn’t desperation. This isn’t fueled by adrenaline. This isn’t some long romance either. This is a sweetness that makes his kisses sluggish as he laps at Shisui’s tongue and tastes teeth and gums and palate and opens his own mouth to Shisui’s exploring, hungry, curious tongue. This is a heat that brings a salty sweat to his back and the scent of Shisui’s own sweat, own excitement, to his well trained nose as they roll on the small bed until he’s the one with one shoulder against the wall and the body above him, pinning him down. This is a light that fills his blood and his stomach and shines on Shisui’s skin as they rock together in pleasure so bright that Shisui lifts his head and laughs in joy and Kakashi says his name like one might say the name of their god. When Shisui looks at him, dark eyes focused entirely on him, Kakashi thinks he might just be the single source of sweetness, of heat, of light to Shisui.

At least, Shisui kisses him like that might be true.

There’s a point where they roll back, again, and Shisui wriggles like a fish under Kakashi, managing to pull down the last of his clothes and keep his mouth engaged in its long standing battle with Kakashi’s own. He pulls back to gasp out words like, “Lube?” and “Pants _off”_ and “C’mon, c’mon, _c’mon”_ while Kakashi answers with half grunts and gestures.

Shisui lets out one of those joyous laughs again when Kakashi’s worked two fingers into him and scrapes the edge of his prostate. His head goes back, his throat bared, his body gleaming in the sunlight. He’s the one who keeps his legs open and back, not with his hands but with the flexing muscles in those long legs alone. Kakashi licks up the side of one of them as he gets another finger in and makes Shisui arch up off the bed. He’s going to appreciate those legs for the rest of his life, he thinks as Shisui manages to throw one up onto his shoulder and catch it there. Kakashi bites at it playfully, scratching the skin with his sharp canines, but not drawing blood.

Then Shisui hooks his other leg around Kakashi’s hip and gives him a look with eyes burning and a grin beaming and there’s no more patience left for fingers for either of them.

Kakashi slides in slowly, listening to the huff of Shisui’s breath and watching his face. When he can go no further, he closes his head and simply exists in that heat for a moment. The moment passes when Shisui shifts beneath him, whimpering out words of neediness, and Kakashi nods his head in silent agreement.

Once more they’re rocking together and then they’re thrusting. Kakashi goes down as Shisui moves up to meet him and it’s the heat and the light poured into one action. Kakashi bends himself to the task, uncovered eye always open, always absorbing every part of Shisui he can watch. The other shinobi twists under him. His legs flex and draw Kakashi closer. His stomach is caught with shudders that flow over his body. His hands reach up, fall away, reach for bedding, fall away, get tangled in his own hair, fall away. His head goes back, then to the side, then the other. Always, always, his mouth is open to his words, his panting, his pleasure. Always, always, Kakashi can see the jumping pulse in his exposed throat and knows that he’s the one driving Shisui to this madness.

He doesn’t remember when the thought strikes him, but the moment it does, Kakashi leans forwards, teeth bared. “Shisui,” he has to say Shisui’s name twice more to get those eyes, blown and wide and wild, to focus on him. When they do, he shudders from shoulders to spine down to his hips and it makes him thrust in, even though he’s as deep as he can go to reach what he wants.

At last, Shisui sees him. His eyes flick from Kakashi’s to his teeth he lets out a moan. He doesn’t offer his neck, because they both know that would end in too much blood and one lost life, but instead the flesh of his shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, breathy and quick, “Yeah. Yeah. Do it. Bite me.”

Kakashi does.

He doesn’t think too hard about it. He just works his hips as much as he can as he stretches out his jaw and sinks in his teeth. The taste of blood is familiar in his mouth. Shisui’s fingers curl in his hair, but he doesn’t pull Kakashi away. They just twist and tangle themselves endlessly.

Pulling back, he licks over the bite, already bleeding so much, then licks his lips and makes a show of licking the blood from his teeth. He kneels back and turns his attention back to the thrusting. He sees Shisui’s hand come creeping into his view --he’ll admit it, he was only staring at Shisui from the chest down because there’s just something so viscerally pleasing about watching that lithe body flex and tremble and shake under the force of his hips-- and pays little attention to it at first.

Then he sees the blood on the fingers, the palm. The blood that Shisui uses as he strokes himself under Kakashi’s gaze.

“Fuck,” Kakashi gasps out. That and several more barely-thought words drip from his tongue, his lips, like the bloodied saliva he knows dripped from it only minutes before. He can’t look away. He wants to imprint this scene on the backs of his eyelids--

He sacrifices a handhold to rip off the medical eyepatch covering his Sharingan. Then, with both eyes, one of them spinning and memorizing and crystallizing this moment into his brain, he watched Shisui come undone underneath him. There’s more of Shisui’s laughter, this time it’s breathless, and Kakashi spares a glance up to his face.

“Pervert,” Shisui says, tapping a finger to his own face, under an eye.

“Nothing’s. Stopping. You.” Kakashi grunts out each word in time with a shove. “Join me.”

He does. Black eyes turn red and Kakashi grins down at him. Shisui laughs again, pulling at his cock with one hand and digging his fingers into the sheets with the other. He comes first, with a shout, a cry, and an arch to his spine that looks almost painful. Kakashi has time enough to feel the splatter of hot come on his own stomach before the heat and the light and the sweetness of the moment overwhelms him. His eyes flutter closed, just for a second, before he wills them open to see Shisui beneath him.

With a bone deep exhaustion, Kakashi slumps forward, catching himself on one elbow. He finds himself kissing absentmindedly at Shisui’s chest and up his throat. He pulls out so he can kiss Shisui’s open mouth and drown himself in that lax, warm tenderness.

He doesn’t complain when Shisui turns him over onto his back, just closes his eyes and basks in the sunlight streaming in through the window and the pleasure of his satiated body and mind. He opens his rather plain eye when he feels Shisui pressing the eyepatch over his Sharingan. “There you go,” Shisui murmurs, pressing a kiss above his eyebrow. “Can’t have you running around naked now. That would be indecent.”

Kakashi grunts at him. “So chatty. Did I not entertain you well enough?”

Shisui’s laughter is a breath of happiness against Kakashi’s throat. He’s curled himself up along Kakashi’s side again, arms loose around him, one leg draped over his. “You didn’t fuck my mouth so it’s not at all tired. I could go on for hours more.”

“Don’t,” Kakashi flopped a hand over Shisui’s face. “Shut up and sleep. I can’t imagine you ever sleep in, even on a day off, so do it now.”

“If you insist,” Shisui teases one of his fingers with his lips, “Will you treat me to lunch when we get up? I’ll be pretty hungry since I’m missing breakfast to indulge your insatiable vice of laziness.”

“Oh I’ll treat you to lunch,” he mutters back, “And it’ll shut up that mouth of yours too.”

“We’ll see.” He licks Kakashi’s fingertip and then snuggles closer, “I have high hopes for your success.”

“Shh,” Kakashi pats the side of his head and then refuses to answer any more of Shisui’s statements, or questions, of which there are at least a half dozen more before the younger shinobi finally slips into a warm, sunlit doze.

Kakashi, this time, falls asleep after him. He stares up out the window at the sky. Not quite cloudless, but blue beyond the white and with swift moving winds. It would be a brilliant, bright day but he doubted it would fill him with the same sweet pleasure as Shisui’s curled fingers at his hip or the warmth of his breath at his neck.

 _Should have bandaged up his shoulder,_ is Kakashi’s last thought as he drifts off to sleep. _That’ll probably leave a scar._


End file.
